Madame Plaisir's Establishment
by Pariaritzia
Summary: Victor van Dort, at an establishment belonging to a lady called Madame Plaisir? Oh dear.


**Victor van Dort, at an establishment belonging to a lady called Madame Plaisir? **

**Oh dear.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Corpse Bride.**

**Bonne lecture.**

The young man looked pale and nervous and intimidated, but Madame Plaisir expected that. Most novices were a little anxious, at first.

"I am married, you know," said the man, twisting his fingers as he followed the older woman down the hall. "I mean—I shouldn't like my wife to know."

"Of course not, sir," replied Madame Plaisir smoothly. "You may rest assured of our absolute secrecy."

"Secrecy!" he repeated, blushing. "That—that is not quite the word—"

"Discretion, my good sir, discretion. My establishment is indeed respectable, you realise. I keep only the very best."

"Yes, yes, certainly…" He looked around, his jet-black hair falling into his eyes. He attempted to push it out of the way and failed.

"Oh, she will like it much better that way," said Madame, noting his struggle.

He brightened. "She will?"

"They always do. Something to…amuse themselves with."

He blushed. "But I don't even know whom I shall choose."

"They all are the same, really," she said dismissively. "All beautiful, all sweet, all eager. Their only flaw is how easily they are distracted; but that is to be expected, I think, of such…characters."

"Oh yes," he said. "I can see that."

For a moment they were quiet. They turned a corner and Madame Plaisir pointed to a door near the end of it, to the right.

"Through there are a half-dozen of my girls—"

"Your girls?"

"—yes, sir, for they are all mine, in a sense—but through there are a half-dozen of my girls. You may choose whomever you wish, let me know, and I shall take your payment and handle the logistics of the matter."

The man, who had relaxed during the silence, suddenly flushed again.

"I really shouldn't like my wife to know," he said again.

"And she shall not know," answered Madame, smiling at his worry. These younger, fresher men were her favourite customers; so ready to please, yet so fretful of anyone—particularly their wives—discovering their secret.

"It is not bad, sir," she went on, attempting to soothe his unease. "Naturally your upbringing has prejudiced you against such a practice, but it really is very common among people of your class. In fact, the royal family—"

"The royal family!"

"Why, yes, sir, certainly you knew that! Most of the wealthy, to be sure!"

He appeared staggered by this. "When I was young my mother thought it was horrible," he informed her.

"Some households are stricter than others," said Madame wisely. "Now sir, shall we go? Are you ready to decide?"

The man nodded, Madame Plaisir opened the door, and together they went through it. After a few minutes' scrutiny, the man pointed to one in the far corner.

"Her," he said firmly, beaming. "She'll do just fine."

VVVV

**Christmas Morning**

"Oh Victor, she's lovely!"

Victoria eyed the little creature with delight, reaching out to pick her up and stroke her fur.

"She's so sweet!" she exclaimed. "And so silky—Victor, here, her fur—oh, and that shade of brown is beautiful—almost like chocolate—oh, and this pink bow around her neck is simply adorable! Victor, this is a most wonderful present!"

"I thought you might like it," he said shyly, scratching the puppy behind her ear. "I like them myself, you know."

"Yes, you've told me about Scraps," said Victoria, a little more sedately. She thought for a moment, then said hesitantly, "I shouldn't like to name her Scraps, I think."

"No, of course not," said Victor quickly. "It wouldn't do at all to have a girl named Scraps."

"No…" Victoria smiled as her present began sniffing at her neck, likely attracted by the scent of her bath soap. "Would Emily suit her better?"

There was a pause. His expression was inscrutable.

"If that seems disrespectful," said Victoria hurriedly, "then I apologise—I meant it to honour her, not degrade her—"

"Emily is an excellent name," he said quietly.

Another pause passed, broken when the newly named Emily barked. Victor laughed and took her in his arms.

"She does not like silence," he remarked, turning his head to grin at Victoria. "I suppose she can fill our quiet days until we—ah!"

As he had moved his hair had fallen into his eyes; Emily, caught by the sight, jumped and began licking his face.

"Ah…no, Emily…oh, Madame warned me about this…"

Victoria began to giggle. "Your protests are quite ineffectual when you're laughing so much."

"It is Christmas, and we have a cocker spaniel. Why _shouldn't_ I laugh? Or do you have some depressing news to tell me?"

"Not depressing," she said, a little shyly, "but I do have news."

"What is it? Is one of our parents dead?"

"_Victor_. That would count as depressing."

"For _you_, maybe. Not for me."

Victoria sighed, then said, blushing, "Emily shall have a playmate by midsummer."

"Who? Another puppy? I think one will be work enough, Victoria, but if you really want, I suppose we can—"

"_No_, Victor, not another puppy. A baby."

"—get another one, though I think—a _baby_?"

"Yes, by midsummer," she said, watching his face apprehensively. "I had my suspicions confirmed by the doctor yesterday, so I am certain."

"Oh." Victor looked down at Emily, who had somehow wriggled out of his arms to the floor and was currently exploring his left shoe. "I do hope it is a girl."

Victoria's eyebrow rose. "Are you not tired of girls? You already have me and Emily."

"I cannot help it," he shrugged, smiling self-consciously. "I have a bit of a weakness for women. It is my only vice, I'm afraid."

Such a preposterous statement could not bring Victoria to anything but laughter.

"Oh, Victor," she said, once she had recovered. "I love you."

"I love you too, Victoria," he replied, beaming. "And Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she said, still laughing a little.

Emily barked.

**I don't even celebrate Christmas. Is it odd for me to write this when I don't? Oh well.**

**Happy holidays to everyone, no matter what (or whether) you celebrate!**


End file.
